Roger Williams: A Rebel with Our Cause

He should be considered America's first great trouble-making rebel, who despite a life-sustaining devotion to God, believed just as deeply in complete separation of the sacred and the secular. His writings and ideas greatly shaped the 3 iconic documents that form the basis for our country, especially the Constitution and the Bill of Rights. During his time, he was both revered and reviled, finally literally being cast out of his Massachusetts community for the then-savage wilds of what is today Rhode Island for his beliefs about the essentials of liberty and conscience.  But never, in all the turmoil and the triumphs, did Roger Williams ever waver from those beliefs. To do so, he said, succinctly, would "stink in the nostrils of God."

To try to capture the essence of this engaging 17th Century historical presence, John Barry appeared at the Newseum tonight to discuss his book Roger Williams and the Creation of the American Soul: Church, State, and the Birth of Liberty.

At the beginning of his talk, Barry acknowledged that a study of Williams' ideas is particularly pertinent given today's emotionally charged political debates concerning the roles of government and religion. "It is a little bit too timely. I wish it were a little bit less timely," Barry said. "Really not much has changed about the arguments except the spelling and the grammar. It's a fault line that runs through 400 years of American history."

The beginnings of the argument can be focused on the ideas of 2 men, both of whom were among the earliest English settlers of America. The more prominent majority view was encapsulated by the thoughts of John Winthrop, the originator of the idea of a new, purified government operating as "a shining city on the hill" run by "a new chosen people" putting into practice God's will as outlined in the Bible.

Williams, although equally sure of God's existence, wanted a separation from "the wilderness of the world and the garden that was the church." Barry said Williams was convinced that "if you mix religion and politics, you get politics" and to force worship and religion into governance would be "a monstrosity" that "would stink in God's nostrils."

Barry told the audience that it was important to remember that this initial debate was not theoretical, but came "as a specific response to specific historical events." For his part, Williams' views were a refined version of those held by his mentor and the great English jurist Edward Coke, who pioneered the idea of habeus corpus and established the legal concept that "the house of everyone is as his castle."

"Coke's views on liberty ran in Roger Williams' veins," Barry said. It is equally apparent that Coke shaped Williams stand on moral courage. When he was imprisoned in the Tower of London by King James, Coke said "If the king desires my head, he knows where he can find it."

After arriving in New England, Williams, discouraged by what he saw developing around him, began sounding the trumpet for the idea that government didn't get its authority from God, but from the people. "Today, it's hard to imagine how revolutionary that idea was," Barry said.

Eventually, those expressed thoughts earned Williams a banishment into the bitter, harsh New England winter. He went on to establish Providence, which in its time was the freest place the world had even seen. Williams "allowed all religions, even atheism, to flourish, not just be tolerated. While his northern Puritan neighbors were hanging Quakers, Williams wanted to debate them," Walker said. 

"He was the first to link the freedom of religion to political freedom," Barry said. "He established that government can't get its authority from God, but from the people."

Tales, Tidbits, and Tips
We almost didn't get in to hear Barry's fascinating talk. Arriving at the Newseum, we noticed about 20 yellow-vested valets on the sidewalks parking cars. The people streaming through the front door were all dressed in fancy suits and fine dresses. Confused, we walked up to one of the half-dozen or so black-dressed women obviously registering these important looking people. "Is this for the Roger Williams talk," I asked a woman behind a sign that clearly indicated for Congressmen only. "No, this is a Comcast event," she said. "But you might ask her. I think she might be with the Newseum," she said, pointing to a black-dressed lady with a dangling lanyard around her neck. I darted in front of 2 men wearing expensive Italian suits and asked, "Is there a talk on Roger Williams here tonight?" . Making no attempt to disguise her crinkling nose and raised, carefully plucked eyebrows as she looked at me in my orange work-shirt, orange and white Tennessee Volunteer t-shirt, and ripped, faded jeans, she curtly replied, "No, it's not here. It was never even scheduled." Now, more confused than ever, I dragged Judy outside and plopped down on an empty bench to check my i-Phone. There it was. 7 p.m. Newseum. John H. Barry speaks about his new book on Roger Williams. "Let's try another door," I said.  On the side of the building, we did indeed find the right entrance, were cheerfully checked in, and rode the elevator to the 8th floor for our talk. Now I know there were no valets at our entrance and the audience wasn't as impeccably arrayed as the first-floor crew, but I have the suspicion that the ideas we received were probably wiser than any message those lobbyists and Congressmen downstairs got. Now, as for what Mitt Romney, or Rick Santorum, or Newt Gingrich, would believe, that, as they say, is another story.